


I Want To Be The One You Love

by fishkybuns



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Falling In Love, Heart Break, Idol Worship, Love Triangle, M/M, Oral Sex, Past, Slash, slight AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-01 23:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6541768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishkybuns/pseuds/fishkybuns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking place about 10 years before TftBL.</p><p>Kroger is a suave drifter who by chance meets a gang member named Finch one night in a bar.  The two hit it off right away, and become quite fond of one another.  After a bar quarrel, Finch is impressed with how the drifter can handle himself in a fight, and suggests he join the gang he belongs to.</p><p>Vallory is impressed by his demeanor and skills, and allows him to join up with her and her goons, who are settled in a remote bandit camp in The Dust.  After a few months of proving himself to be a capable asset to the gang, Vallory requests that Kroger train her young hot-headed son, August, in combat.</p><p>Young crushes turn into longing and wanting of the older man, and through the years drama and affairs take place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want To Be The One You Love

**Author's Note:**

> Just some quick notes on the ages here. Kroger is around 26, Finch is around 28. August isn't in the first chapter, but he'll be about 16 (though years will pass before there's anything sexual involving him, so there's no underage tag for this story).
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Pandora was a nightmare come nightfall, and it was best to remain indoors when you could, unless you wanted to be jumped by bandits, or eaten by skags or a roaming psycho gang. The young drifter knew that from experience and too many close calls. His favorite place to bed down was trashy bars that offered cheap rooms and even cheaper beer. When he entered this bar, he knew it was perfect. It was crowded enough where he knew he could just slink into the shadows and disappear unnoticed. He shouldered his small duffel bag and silently placed a few bills onto the bar to get the attention of the barkeep, asking for a beer and a room when acknowledged. The old barkeep slipped him a bottle and a key with a crudely painted number on it.

 

“Rooms are upstairs.” the barkeep mumbled to the drifter.

 

With a nod, the drifter palmed the key and tucked it into his pocket. He grabbed his beer and spotted a small vacant table in the back corner of the establishment, making his way to it and sitting down with a sigh. He placed his bag down by his feet, sticking his ankles through on of the loops to keep a hold on it from thieving assholes. It had been a long day, and sitting down with a beer was like pure heaven.

 

The biggest reason he loved these sorts of places was for the people watching. He was a loner by nature, but he enjoyed watching others. Especially people who seemed to be worse off than him, and hole-in-the-walls always had the best (or worst) people to observe. His eyes swept across the room, looking for some mess worth watching and feeling superior to, but instead he found something else entirely.

 

The young drifter spotted him from across the noisy bar. When his eyes settled upon the man, he wasn't able to look away. It wasn't often that the drifter felt butterflies just from looking at someone, especially just a stranger in a bar. But this man was just so...interesting looking. Not like all the other schmucks who littered Pandora's every corner. He sat at a larger table, with two other men. His black hair was in a perfectly-kept short mohawk that striped down the center of his skull. He was thick, with bright colored glasses that contrast so harshly against his dark skin in the best way possible. A strange swirl of tattoos danced across his cheek and around the back of his neck. The drifter crooked his neck and leaned in his chair to get a better look at them, seeing they also wrapped around his neck. That was when the interesting man turned his head and looked at him.

 

The drifter knew he was caught leering. He was staring so damn hard after all, practically falling out of his seat to get a good look. He settled back into his chair and averted his gaze and took a heavy sip from the bottle of beer in his hand. Out of his peripheral vision he saw the interesting man rise from his seat, and he glanced over to see if he was leaving. His heart thudded in his chest when he saw that the man was coming over towards the small corner table he was tucked away in. The drifter swept a hand through his hair casually and looked up to the stranger who had approached him, who held a beer firmly in one hand. He leaned a metallic hand onto the empty chair across from him, and the drifter took a moment to look at it. The drifter hadn't noticed the prosthetic before. It looked a bit old and beat up, but the drifter just added that to a mental list of things he found fascinating about this man.

 

“Seat taken?” the stranger's deep voice vibrated through the drifter's ears, sending a physical chill through his spine. _Seriously, what is it about this guy?_

 

The drifter shook his head and lazily gestured to the chair. “Nah, man. Knock yourself out.” His voice slipped through his lips, calm, cool and in control. He smirked, inwardly congratulating himself for making such an awesome first impression.

 

The interesting stranger placed his beer down on the small circular table with a distinctive clink before pulling the chair out and sitting down, leaning both arms on the table, his large torso slouching forward.

 

“Name's Finch.” he said simply.

 

God, he was just as cool as he looked. A man of few words always did it for the drifter.

 

“Kroger.” He returned, adding a small sly smile.

 

The man named Finch offered his own roguish smile. Kroger could barely make his eyes out through his gaudy glasses as they slowly lowered down his chest, before returning back to rest back upon his face.

 

“I dig the get up. Nice to see someone who has a sense of style in this dump.” The man's words were genuine, but laced with something that Kroger could be sure was desire.

 

Kroger felt his ego swell. He always dressed to impress, though few people on Pandora actually appreciated true fashion.

 

“I was thinking the same thing when I saw you.” Kroger took a long swig from his beer.

 

“Yeah, I saw you staring.” Finch grinned widely, clearly amused with the drifter.

 

Kroger choked in surprise on the liquid that was running down his throat, slamming the glass bottle down on the table and covering his face in the crook of his arm. _Ah god dammit_. There goes that suave impression he was trying so hard to convey. He roughly coughed several times, a few tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He barely saw Finch lean deeply across the table before he felt three way too hard hard slaps on his back. But that only made it worse and he continued to sputter into his arm. _Way to go, idiot._ _Ruined your shot.._ _._ he thought to himself.

 

But then he heard laughing. Not mocking laughter. A genuine pleasant chuckle. The hand that was just slapping his back was now lightly pressed against it, and it rubbed quick circle before retracting. Kroger peeked up through his watery eyes, face slightly reddened from the coughing. Finch was just smiling at him in an adoring manner.

 

“You're pretty cute.”

 

Kroger finally maintained control of his composure, and wiped a stray tear from his cheek. Maybe this was still salvageable after all.

 

“Th-thanks.” As stupid as Kroger felt for that whole scene, it quickly dissipated when he settled his gaze back on the tattooed bandit across from him. He cleared his throat and picked his beer bottle back up, swirling it's little contents around.

 

Finch smirked, taking the not so subtle hint.

 

“Need another drink, dude?”

 

“That'd be nice, yeah. I've, uh, got a room upstairs. Maybe we could take up a couple drinks up. If you're interested, that is.” the drifter spoke coolly, leaning his elbows against the rickety table, and resting his chin in his palms. His chartreuse eyes glaring confidently at the dark skinned man. Kroger was back in control now, words dripping like him from honey. He knew he was damn near irresistible when he tried to be. He smirked inwardly when he saw Finch's upper lip twitch.

 

_Come and get it, baby._

 

“Y-yeah,” Finch stuttered lightly, and Kroger just drank it in.

 

 _That's right,_ _papi_ _. You can't resist all this._

 

“Room four.” Kroger spoke as he rose from his seat, shouldering his duffel bag. “I'll leave it unlocked for you.” He brushed past the seated man, running his fingers along a broad shoulder as he did and made a b-line for the stairs next to the bar. He willed himself not to look over his shoulder as he walked to his rented room. That wouldn't be cool.

 

He shut the door behind him, and left it unlocked like he said he would. The man quickly tossed his duffel bag in the corner next to his bed, and did a quick once over of the small room. There wasn't much to it. An old dirty looking mattress with a thin blanket and flat pillows was in the center of the room against the wall. Surprisingly to Kroger, it had a box spring underneath it. There was also a dusty trunk at the foot of the bed and a sad looking chair in one corner. A cracked mirror hung on the wall where there should have been a window. Kroger quickly took the opportunity to primp himself.

 

He stared in the mirror, turning his face from side to side, examining himself. His eye make up was still holding up well this late in the evening. He checked out his hair, frowning softly. He was going to need to trim it soon. Half of it was shaved down fairly short against his skull, but it was starting to get a little too long, and didn't look as neat as he normally liked to keep it. He petted it down, but it just popped right back up. He sighed in defeat, it was too late to do anything about it now.

 

He unbuttoned his jacket and shrugged it down his shoulders, laying it over the back of the single rickety chair in the room before stepping over to his bag and kneeling down to dig through it. He had a little container of lube that he wanted to have on hand for when that stud of a bandit showed up. He slyly slipped it under one of the pillows on the narrow bed, hoping that that bed would be sturdy enough to hold the two of them. It looked pretty flimsy up close. But it would have to do.

 

There was a light rapping at the door before it yawned open, Finch peering inside for just a moment to make sure he had the right room before he let himself in, kicking it closed behind him.

 

“There you are.” Finch mumbled blithely when he laid eyes on the drifter, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floor beneath him. He held a beer in each hand, and offered one to Kroger, who accepted it with a small thanks.

 

Kroger flopped himself against the bed, crossing his legs and taking a peek at the label of the bottle he grasped. He whistled before grinning up at the other man.

 

“Whoa, you splurged for the good stuff?” he gently patted the mattress next to him a couple of times, extending the offer of sitting to the standing man. “Don't I feel special.” he added smugly, lightly sipping at his beverage. The bubbles tickled his throat sharply as he swallowed, and he savored the flavor with a soft hum. It was leagues above the swill he would normally buy for himself.

 

Finch had a slanted grin planted on his face, happy to know that his gift of the more expensive malt beverage didn't go unnoticed. He graciously accepted the offer to join the man on the bed, however he didn't sit where Kroger patted. Not bothering to kick off his dusty boots, he lowered himself down on the mattress at the head of the bed, leaning his broad back against the wall.

 

“You look like a man of fine tastes. Didn't want to disappoint you.” His words were laced with a being a simple jest, but he actually did mean it. Kroger was well put together. Make-up carefully applied around his eyes and onto his eyelids, hair thoughtfully decorated with beads, dressed to kill in fantastic colors and layers. Finch would have seen it as an insult not to bring the best to the attractive young drifter.

 

Kroger allowed his ego to be petted, and leaned his free palm against the lumpy mattress, leaning towards Finch with a grin.

 

“You're quite the charmer, I must admit.” the drifter practically cooed, allowing himself a moment to admire the other man before taking a long deep drink from his bottle.

 

The beverage he was given was one to be sipped slowly and enjoyed. But Kroger was downing gulps of it hungrily. Not wanting to waste the gift, but also wanting to free himself to more interesting opportunities.

 

“I've never seen you in here before. Not from around here?” Finch asked curiously.

 

“I'm not really from anywhere. I just kinda go where the wind takes me, cliché as that might sound.” Kroger shrugged his shoulders lightly, eying the dark colored bottle in his hand. “You from this podunk little town, I take it?”

 

“Me? Nah. I'm from a settlement near by. Me and my boys make our way here from time to time. --Almost didn't make it tonight. Glad I did now.”

 

It was all Kroger could do not to bite down on his lip from that statement, feeling a rush of heat from his brain to his loins. He quickly tilted the bottle back and finished off it's contents before placing it down on the trunk at the foot of the bed. Finch observed quietly and adjusted himself accordingly as Kroger crawled over to him, the drifter straddling his wide thighs and settling against them, smirking wryly at the man under him. Finch sported his own barely detectable grin, and placed his metal hand calmly against his counterpart's hip. He turned his face off to the side and took several painfully slow gulps from his drink.

 

Playing coy and slightly uninterested caused Kroger's dick to twitch in his pants, and he accepted the challenge with determined vigor. He leaned down and trailed his lips down the side of Finch's exposed throat, flicking his tongue out against the salty skin there. A soft moan escaped him at the sensation of tasting the strong man, his manly scent filled Kroger's senses.

 

Finch crooned his neck for the young man, slowly kneading and rubbing his metallic hand against the firm clothed flesh underneath his grasp to show his interest as he continued to nonchalantly drain the bottle he held.

 

Kroger kept his movements controlled and seductive, fighting his urge to grind sloppily against the man beneath him. His hips slowly rolled forward as his tongue traveled upwards of the man's neck, tracing lithely past his jawline and to his ear, worshiping the cartilage there. Finch's low appreciative exhale and tightened grip encouraged the young drifter's movements, moving his hips with more determination now. His teeth gently grazed against the soft fleshy earlobe before sucking softly.

 

The sound of an empty glass bottle clinking against the wooden floor boards echoed through the room. It was time to stop playing coy. Kroger felt two strong hands run thoroughly up his back, causing him to breathe out a sharp huff of air excitedly. He pulled his face away from the side of Finch's, and pressed his forehead against the dark skinned man, the plastic frames from his glasses digging into the bridge of his nose. Up close he could see the man's eyes more clearly through the clouded lenses of his glasses. They were deep and dark in color, and they were perfect, Kroger decided. A soft whine escaped him when Finch pressed his full lips against his own, and he allowed his eyes to flutter shut. Kroger gently fingered against Finch's thick neck, feeling along the slightly raised skin where his tattoos resided.

 

The kiss they shared was surprisingly gentle and slow, their tongues carefully and curiously exploring one another's before their movements gained confidence, becoming more eager to taste the other.

 

Finch gripped his human hand against Kroger's rump, groaning contently before breaking the kiss, his lips sliding along to the man's jaw line and throat.

 

“How's this goin' down, baby? You want me to fuck you?” Finch's voice vibrated along Kroger's neck, the sensation and words causing the drifter to jut his hips up uselessly.

 

“That would be...yeah, that's how this should go down.” He sighed out contently, a bit breathless and dazed as he pressed against the hardness underneath him.

 

“There's some lube under the pillow there.” Kroger added.

 

Finch blinked and halted his groping of the young drifter and curiously slide his metal hand underneath the pillow, pulling out a small container of lube and stared at it silently briefly.

 

“Huh. What are you, a fucking sex-magician?” he mused.

 

Kroger bit back a laugh by his reaction. How could a man who had such a rough and tough exterior say such cute things? Kroger found himself adoring the man in that moment, smiling softly at him.

 

They were both pulled from their thoughts from a huge commotion coming from downstairs in the bar area. Kroger was willingly going to ignore it, but Finch became tense and seemed to be listening intently at the yelling voices and crashing sounds beneath them. Kroger attempted to gain his full attention once again, leaning in to kiss him, but Finch gently stopped him.

 

“Hold on...sorry. I—I think that's my boys. I should check it out.” He was urging Kroger off of his lap, who had no choice but to reluctantly comply.

 

Kroger's face twisted with annoyance as he watched Finch climb off the bed and adjust himself before heading to the door.

 

“Wait-- Are you coming back?” Kroger asked impatiently, willing himself not to openly pout.

 

“Yeah, of course. Just can't leave those guys hangin' if there's trouble.” Finch quickly replied over his shoulder, exiting the small room.

 

Kroger groaned out lowly, his eyes rolling back as he ran a heavy hand through his hair. “Seriously...?” he muttered to himself, adjusting his his trousers uncomfortably as the erection he was sporting was still stressing against the fabric. He sat quietly on the bed for a few moments, the negative reactions to having blue-balls causing him to shift uneasily.

 

Shortly after, there was more clamoring and racket from downstairs. Kroger couldn't make out any words from the shouting, but he was pretty sure one of the deep voices he heard was indeed Finch's. He rose from the bed and straightened his clothing, grabbing his jacket from the chair before heading down to survey the scene.

 

He stood at the bottom of the stairs and observed the brawl that played out in front of him. Two of the men that Finch had been sitting with previously were on their feet, shouting and swinging their fists wildly at a couple of other patrons, who were just as agitated in return. Finch had taken the role of a referee and was seemingly trying to smooth things out between the men, forcefully shoving both sides back with a firm palm to the shoulder when they tried to approach the others.

 

Things seemed to be mostly under control from what Kroger could see, both sides reluctantly calming their yelling and physical aggressions. But then Kroger spotted a man who was not involved in the initial quarrel from the sidelines of the bar, and he was swiftly approaching Finch from a blind spot, the light reflecting on the metal blade in his hand.

 

Kroger went into action, with the grace of a wild cat he prowled through the crowd that was gathered around the controversy, smoothly pulling out his own knife from the sheath on his hip. In one calm and nimble movement he grabbed the armed bar patron from behind, pressing the sharp edge of his knife rigidly against the midst of the front his neck. The man tensed and gasped against the surprise attack against himself.

 

“And what exactly do you think _you're_ doing, hm? Might want to rethink this, unless you want me to slit your fucking throat right here.” Kroger breathed loudly against his ear, pressing the blade against the skin harder, a small trickle of blood seeping from the wound it created.

 

“N-nah nah, man! I ain't gonna do nothin', a'ight!?” The man spat nervously, his whole body stiff as a board. “I was just leavin' okay? L-let me go, please...” he pleaded pitifully.

 

Kroger skillfully removed the knife from the man's throat and grunted as he shoved the man forward hard. He stumbled awkwardly from the push and fell to the ground, rubbing his neck and whimpering when he felt the blood. He looked up stupidly at Kroger with wide eyes, who simply glared dominantly down at him before he sheathed his blade.

 

“Time to fuck off home, sweetheart.” Kroger glowered, lips snarling back to show the whites of his teeth.

 

The man nodded frantically before scrambling to his feet and he bust out of the swinging front doors of the bar.

 

All the commotion had come to a stand still as everyone took the time to watch the scene between Kroger and the pathetic patron (who everyone silently thought might have indeed pissed himself). This included Finch, who was looking to Kroger with an almost surprised look on his face.

 

“Damn, baby.” he started, before his lips curled into a wicked grin. “Not just a pretty face, I see. You got skills.” Finch sang admiringly, before he looked back over his shoulders at his fellow gang members. “You idiots should fuck off back to camp. I ain't here to baby sit your drunk asses! _Get_!” He shoo'd the younger men, who apologized and clambered over themselves to gather their few things before heading out the door.

 

Kroger crossed his arms tightly over one another, the adrenaline rush from the moment still coursing through his body. God did he love the rush of a fight, even minor ones like this. He sighed, his expression softening as Finch returned his attention to him.

 

“I think you owe me another fancy drink for saving your ass, sugar. Dude had a knife and was closing in fast.” He spoke smoothly, raising an eyebrow in confidence.

 

Finch laughed. “I think I do, yeah.”

 

The rest of the bar slipped back into it's normal state, patrons returning to their abandoned drinks once the action had subsided. A few of them a little disappointed from the lackluster events, itching to see a good fight.

 

Finch bought them another round and they both sat down at the bar shoulder to shoulder, both a little too wound up from the action to return to Kroger's room just yet. They clinked their bottles together before taking a celebratory swig.

 

“So you said you're just passing through?” Finch began. “You headin' anywhere?”

 

Kroger hummed softly around the liquid in his mouth, enjoying the way it hit his pallet. “Nah.” he offered simply.

 

“You, uh, looking for work? You handle that knife pretty well. I could put a good word in with the boss. She's always recruiting bad asses.”

 

Kroger quietly let the words process through his mind. He hadn't been tied down in years, it was something he just wasn't usually comfortable with. But something about this man, Finch, left him curious about the opportunity. Not to mention living on the road alone was a tough life. Money could be hard to come by, and robbing people was always a gamble, never knowing which side would have the bigger gun.

 

“You know what?” Kroger finally said, an interested smile crossing his lips. “I'll sleep on it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really excited about this story, so I should have the following chapters out pretty regularly! Thanks for reading~
> 
> www.fishkybuns.com Come say hi on tumblr!


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